


soon

by crunchrapsupreme



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Macro/Micro, Oral Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Titan Eren, eren's big titan tongue doing naughty things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crunchrapsupreme/pseuds/crunchrapsupreme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I know you can do it,” He whispers, and fuck, when he’s this close he can feel Eren’s stuttered breaths on his face. “I believe in you.”</p>
<p>Eren has been having trouble turning into his titan form on command. Armin pays a visit and helps him out in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	soon

**Author's Note:**

> cross posted to my [tumblr](http://alwaystryyourkanyebest.tumblr.com/post/60228945285/soon-titan-eren-armin)

As a titan, Eren doesn’t have much control of his body. It’s a known fact to most everyone, really, and though he’s been holed up with Hanji trying to train and better his motor skills and responsive control, no one has seen a particularly noticeable difference. It’s not too terribly surprising, because a titan body essentially eats him from the inside out, and most everyone can see how something of that nature could be hard to control.

Since Levi and his squad have gotten more restless, Eren is in his titan form more often than not, attempting to take orders and reactions from Hanji to prepare him for battle. It’s almost a second nature to him now, and although he still doesn’t respond as adequately to stimuli yet, it’s a start to know that he has at least a little more control over when he decides to turn into his titan form.

Armin thinks about it a lot; thinks about Eren, and how physically distressing this must all be. He doesn’t get to see him very often anymore, so when he does get the approval from Levi to go visit him for the night, he’s tugging on his boots faster than Jean can even inquire where he’s going and whether he’s going to finish his meal or not.

“You can have it!” Armin tosses over his shoulder as he darts towards the door of the eating quarters. “Share with everyone, though!”

Armin hears a muffled protest but he’s out the door before he can decipher it, zipping up his jacket against the evening chill as he makes his way down towards Eren’s barracks.

They only let one visitor with Eren at a time, because Hanji is afraid that too much social interaction at one time (no matter who it’s from) could drain him quicker, and he needs to be on his feet at all times, hyper aware of his surroundings and his mind and body.

Mikasa is leaving his quarters just as Armin enters, and he nods at her with a small smile. “How’s he doing?”

“Better,” She says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her expression is furrowed in worry, though. “He apparently hasn’t been in his titan form in over four days, and he doesn’t know why. His hands are bitten raw.”

Armin swallows and bites his lip, doesn’t say anything in response, and Mikasa sighs and touches his shoulder. “He misses you.”

A blush fights its way up his neck and across his cheeks, and he huffs when Mikasa smiles at him, finally giving him one last nod as she walks back towards camp. It’s still relatively light out, just delving into early evening, and Armin lets himself watch her back until she’s disappeared down the road.

His boots click against the marble as he walks down the unfamiliar hallway. He’s only been over to visit Eren twice since he was taken here, because he gave Mikasa rein over visiting time, saying she needed him more. They were family in every way but blood, and Armin was just a close friend. Mikasa had swatted him in the back of his head when he expressed such thoughts, said, “Trust me, you mean just as much to Eren as I do.” Her eyes had a sort of twinkle in them, and Armin blushes at the memory, finally rounding the corner and arriving at Eren’s door.

He raises his hand, knocks tentatively, and god, it’s been a long time since he’s seen Eren. At least a good two weeks? He can’t really remember. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous though, it’s just _Eren_. His best friend, who’s been there for him for as long as he can remember. It’s just  _Eren_.

The door swings open, and Armin twists his fingers in the fabric of his jacket as he’s faced with Eren’s chest, the older boy being a good few inches taller and causing Armin to have to glance up through his lashes.

It’s quiet for a few moments, Eren’s fingers gripping the door knob with white knuckles, and Armin swallows as he stares up into familiar green eyes. The same green he thinks about when he has trouble falling asleep at night.

“Eren?” Armin says eventually, and he tries not to yelp when strong arms engulf him suddenly. Eren smells like earth and skin, and Armin lets himself relax into the embrace.

“Armin,” the older boy breathes out. “ _Armin_.”

Armin shivers at the sincerity in Eren’s voice, and when he pulls back, Eren’s gently pushing them back out the door. “Let’s go for a walk. I’m fucking suffocating in there.”

He grabs Armin by the wrist and the younger boy struggles to keep up with the quick pace as they dart through the halls, eventually slipping through a back wooden door that leads to a vacant quad. It’s quiet still, and the grass looks dead and uneven in some places. Armin concludes this particular quad hasn’t been used in a while, and he lets his eyes glance up, taking in the setting sun as Eren drags him further through the overgrown grass.

“God,” Eren says suddenly, plopping down on a patch of dead grass. “It gets so stuffy in there.”

“Are you not allowed outside?” Armin asks as he settles down on the grass next to Eren. “Don’t you need to be outside to turn into your titan form?”

Eren nods. “Yeah, but that’s the  _only_  time I’m let outside. Surrounded by scientists and prodding eyes while burning in a rotting titan corpse. Not exactly the ‘outdoor’ time I’m looking for.”

Armin frowns and glances over, finally sees the scabs and dried blood caked on the crease of Eren’s hands, right where his thumb joints in.

“Mikasa told me you’re having trouble turning?” He asks quietly, and he can’t help it when he reaches over and traces gentle fingers over the scabbing flesh. “Do you know why? You used to be able to do it almost daily.”

Eren watches Armin’s lean fingers graze over his wounds, and he sighs. “I’m not sure. I think I’m losing motivation or something? I don’t know. I feel so…. fuck, I feel so _wound up_ , especially in titan form. I think most of the reason why I have trouble taking orders as a titan is because I feel so defiant. I don’t _want_  to take orders when I’m in that body. I want to  _make_  orders. And I know that’s… that’s not how it’s fucking going to be. I  _have_  to get this right, Armin. I  _have to_.”

Armin doesn’t need to audibly hear it to sense the implied, “ _or else they’ll kill me_ ,” at the end of his sentence. It makes him shudder, and he turns to Eren abruptly, shifting so he’s seated on his knees, eyes wide and desperate as they stare in Eren’s own.

“I know you can do it,” He whispers, and fuck, when he’s this close he can feel Eren’s stuttered breaths on his face. “I believe in you.”

Eren visibly swallows, and Armin raises a shaky hand, the tips of his fingers grazing Eren’s cheek hesitantly. He’s so close, he can count the eyelashes against his cheeks, can spot the flecks of gold mixed in with green, and he finally lets himself close his eyes as Eren raises his hand to grip his shoulder.

Armin yelps as a burst of steam explodes in his face suddenly, knocking him back on the grass, and Armin gasps as he stares at the cloud of warmth before him, leaning on his elbows as he tries to squint up.

“E….Eren…?” he gets out after a few seconds, and his voice cracks vaguely. He swallows dryly, tries to will the beating of his heart down to a slow thump, and he slaps a palm over his mouth to muffle his yelp as a large hand emerges from the cloud of steam to grab him around the middle, picking him up off the grass effortlessly.

“Ah!” Armin squeaks, struggling a bit, his eyes wide and on the verge of fearful, but not quite. Not yet, because this is still  _Eren_ , and shit. Shit, Levi is going to have his  _head_  when he finds out that Eren turned titan without the presence of the squad. It was obviously an  _accident_ , turning now of all times, and Armin swallows again as the cloud of steam finally clears up, reveling stark green eyes only inches from his own.

“Okay,” Armin whispers to himself, trying to will himself to relax in Eren’s grip. “Okay. Okay, Eren? Eren, can you understand me?”

A soft snort greets him, and Armin rubs a palm over his face as he lets out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Shit. Okay. Okay, good. Um.” He pauses, letting his hands rest on the hand holding him up, and the grip is surprisingly gentle. It’s also warm, but not unbearably so. Just a little stuffy and uncomfortable, and Armin can feel beads of sweat appear above his brow as the waves of heat roll off of the body before him. “Can you put me down?”

Eren stares at him, lets out another soft huff of steam before bringing his other hand up to grip the back of Armin’s jacket.

“Hey! What are - ”

Armin yelps when the jacket slips off of his shoulder with a sharp tug by Eren’s oversized fingers, and the garment flutters innocently to the ground. Armin is placed back into the palm of Eren’s hand, and the younger boy frowns.

“Right,” he mumbles to himself, running an absent minded hand through his sweat damp hair. “Doesn’t like to take orders while in titan form. Duly noted.”

When he looks back up into green eyes, there’s a sort of gentle determination in them, and Armin swallows nervously as he fiddles with the buckles on his belt. He’s very, very high up, and he doesn’t even let himself glance over the edge of Eren’s hand to see exactly  _how_  far up he is. He doesn’t need that image boiling in his mind, definitely fucking not.

He’s cut off from his train of thought when two large fingers grip his trousers, pinching the fabric with surprising precision, and Armin squeaks when the garment is literally ripped from his body. A strong thumb presses itself against Armin’s chest to hold him down as those lean fingers tug determinedly at his buckles and gear straps, ripping the leather with ease and letting those flutter to the ground until he’s only in a shirt and nothing else.

“Eren!” Armin manages, trying to reach down to cover himself, but the thumb holding him down is in his way, leaving him completely exposed. “Eren - what the - gah!”

A large, wet tongue darts forward unexpectedly, lapping over his groin, and shit, he can feel himself getting hard against his will. Eren’s tongue is strong and  _warm_ , and it sends tiny sparks through Armin’s blood.

He tries to close his legs, but Eren uses his other hand to keep them pried open, and he feels so… so _vulnerable_ , and the evening air is chilly against his skin, raising goosebumps even though the body heat from the titan itself is causing Armin’s shirt to stick to his back with sweat.

Armin stops struggling after a few moments, lets out a short gasp when Eren laps at him again, his legs open so wide that the tip of the tongue can delve between his cheeks with no resistance at all. Armin’s hip unconsciously rock down without thinking, and if he isn’t mistaken, there’s an amused glint in Eren’s glowing eyes.

Armin huffs, but lets out another undignified squeak when Eren flicks the wet muscle deliberately over his cock, over and over, and fuck, fuck this shouldn’t feel so  _good_.

“God -  _Eren_ , fuck,  _ah_.” Nonsense spills from his lips, tiny gasps and curses mixed with Eren’s name, and he  _knows_ if Eren remembers any of this later he’s going to give him so much shit for it. “ _Please_.”

Armin’s back arches as much as it can from his position held down, and he digs his small hands into the flesh of Eren’s palm, moans spilling like liquid from his mouth as he lets all of his dignity and rational thoughts go, eyes closing and mouth parting in a perfect ‘o’. Eren’s bringing him to the edge, and then he’s pulling back, letting out a quiet huff of steam when Armin whines pitifully.

“You stupid -  _oh god._ ”

Eren swirls his tongue, applying a delicious amount of pressure in all the right places, and Armin is wet and warm and so fucking hard he could cry, and he finally chokes on a moan as he releases all over himself. Eren laps it up quickly, and Armin shivers whenever the appendage brushes over his softening cock.

His eyes flutter open when he feels a surprisingly lean, gentle finger brush the hair back from his forehead, and Armin snorts softly as his cheeks heat up. “Some monster you are,” he manages, and Eren’s eyes glow just slightly brighter as he lowers Armin to the ground. The younger boy shivers, but right as he opens his mouth to complain, he stumbles back as another cloud of steam bursts through the air, and the next thing he knows, the cloud of steam is clearing out and Eren is stumbling towards him, forgotten titan carcass disintegrating quickly behind him.

“A…Armin?” He mutters, squinting his eyes and steadying himself as he moves closer. Armin blinks, remembers he’s naked from the waist down and his trousers are ripped to shreds beside him in the grass, and promptly punches Eren in the shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?” Eren complains, but there’s a glint in his eyes, the same glint he had just moments before, and Armin’s cheeks heat up again. He shivers at the sudden breeze though, the body heat of Eren’s titan form no longer there to warm him, and the older boy is by his side in a matter of seconds. A tremor runs through Armin’s body and he glares as he tugs his shirt down to cover himself as much as he can, much to Eren’s amusement.

“C’mon, let’s get back inside,” he says quietly, reaching down to pick up Armin’s discarded jacket before draping it over the blonde’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. I know a back way, so no one will see us, okay?”

Armin continues to glare, but it’s only half hearted, and he sighs almost contently when Eren wraps an arm around his shoulders, finally leading them back inside.

Once Eren has given Armin a fresh pair of trousers to borrow,  the younger boy rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he’s walked back to the door, his visiting time long since done. His insides flutter, and his cheeks still feel flushed and warm from the events earlier, and when Eren smiles softly and slides closer, Armin finally lets himself look up.

“You, uh. I guess I’ll see you later?” Armin gets out eventually, and Eren snorts out a quiet laugh before ducking down and pressing his lips against the corner of Armin’s mouth, soft and light, and the younger boy makes a quiet noise before tilting his head, getting up on his tiptoes in order to slot their mouths together fully.

Eren hums quietly, says, “You look good, you know. All covered in my spit.”

Armin flushes, rolls his eyes as he finally pulls away. “That’s the least romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

Eren just smiles, gives a timid wave as Armin finally walks out of the door. “See you soon?”

The blonde boy rubs the back of his neck, bites his lip, and doesn’t even try to hide the giddiness in his voice as he says back,

“Yeah. Soon.”


End file.
